


The Pen and the Blade

by aquilaofarkham



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Assassin's Creed III, Gen, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Post-Assassin's Creed III, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 07:44:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6414988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquilaofarkham/pseuds/aquilaofarkham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years after the Revolutionary War, Connor visits New York to see how an old ally is doing, as well as to offer him an occupation in his newly rebuilt Brotherhood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pen and the Blade

**1785**

-

Nothing much had changed. Bridewell Prison remained a scar upon the face of New York. Ask some and they would have said the same thing: the institution was underfunded, overcrowded, discriminatory, and most of all cruel to its inmates, especially to local “criminals” thrown in unjustly.

Connor wasn’t looking forward to going back. For years he tried to block out all memories of that place; the long sleepless night before leaving Massachusetts wasn’t particularly kind to him. Yet he kept his head up and reminded himself of the one goal he had for that day.

Upon arriving at Bridewell, some part of Connor felt the need to spit in its direction but he decided against the idea. It wasn’t worth receiving even more passing glares. After briefly adjusting his clothes, he straightened his back, and looked directly ahead before going inside.

The reactions Connor received were ones he expected; confusion, shock, and even suspicion from the guards. Though much to his relief, they didn’t refuse him entry as a visitor. Of course many seemed reluctant to let him through, but none spoke up about it. And when one tried to step in his way, Connor simply raised his hand without making eye contact and carried on, knowing he had already been granted permission to enter the prison.

Once he made it to the indoor courtyard (another area that held too many bad memories), Connor reminded the warden about whom he wanted to speak with. “Weems!” The man roughly called out. “There’s someone here for you. Make it quick and leave.” He added, turning to Connor. Nodding, he quickly walked towards the far end of the courtyard, all while trying his best to ignore the other inmates. Sitting alone at one of the tables with his head down and a game of fanorona in front of him was a familiar face, but one Connor originally thought he would never see again.

Unlike Bridewell itself, Mason Weems seemed to have gone through a few changes himself. He looked skinnier, a bit paler, and sported a fair amount of stubble that matched his dark hair. Connor began to wonder if the years had changed his personality as well.

“Still waiting for someone to play your games?” Mason looked up and his expression went from neutral, almost bored, to very surprised.

“Connor? I thought I’d never see you again.” Everything from the way Mason spoke right down to his posture made him seem much more humble than when the two of them first met.

“And I thought I would never find you right back where I left you,” Connor replied. Mason chuckled, a hint of shame in his tone.

“Yes, well. These past few years, things didn’t exactly work in my favour. It is however very nice to see you, no matter how unexpected it is.”

“May I sit down?”

“Yes, of course!”

_One game will not_ hurt, Connor thought once he was seated. Both men looked over the fanorona board intently before Mason made his first move. “What are you in for?”

“Tax evasion.”

“Accidental or intentional?”

“Both. Money’s been scarce and no one in New York seems terribly interested in my writing. Not enough to hire me.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”

“How about you? What has the great veteran and saviour of the Revolutionary War been doing lately?”

Connor cringed at Mason’s title for him but answered his question. “I have been busy.”

“I can see that. The question is what have you been busy _with_?”

“I have been leading this… organization. It is hard to explain, but we help give people justice, freedom, and safety when they are denied it. We try to work quickly and out of the public’s eye.”

“A group of vigilantes then.”

“… something like that.”

“And what does Washington have to say about this organization of yours?” Mason asked, making his next move. Connor paused and lowered his eyes.

“I broke any ties I had with Washington long ago. He, Jefferson, and the other founding fathers are not the great men so many believe them to be.”

“Be careful what you say out loud, Connor. If I recall, you used to think very highly of Washington. You are after all the one who saved his life. So how awful can these men be when they aim to represent the people they risked everything to protect? They are trying to do good things for this new country.”

“What about the return of stolen land and rights to my people?” Connor stated firmly. “Or the abolition of slavery, or the many other issues they have failed to address? Both Washington and Jefferson still own slaves, yet they-“

“Would you rather us be under the tyrannical rule of King George?”

Tense silence passed between the two of them. Connor knew what he wanted to say, but wasn’t sure if Mason would fully understand. It was such a bizarre, unnerving moment; for the longest time, Connor kept it to himself. Only two men knew of the strange experience: him and Washington.

“I saw… I… had a dream where Washington was crowned king and became a tyrant just like King George. It showed me he could be a worse man. When I woke up, I tried convincing myself of that but it did not feel right. I will not ignore all the wrong he has done to me, to my people, and to others. Yes, I once admired Washington, as did you. Then I learned the truth and you deserve to know it as well.”

Mason went quiet, avoiding eye contact with Connor. “That’s disappointing to hear… but you are also right. Apologies for being so argumentative.”

“You are willing to listen and learn. That is more than I can say for others I have met.”

“But there’s one thing I still don’t understand. Why have you returned to Bridewell talking about vigilantes and true justice, particularly to me?”

“I want you to join us.”

Mason responded with a light scoff. “I doubt my pen will be of much use to you, Connor.”

“I disagree. A man of your skills and writing could help us in many ways. And I do not want to see you locked in here a third time.” With that, he made his final move, winning the game for himself. Mason sat back and crossed his arms.

“You’ve gotten much better at this game, my friend.”

“I cannot say the same for yourself.” Connor wasn’t only talking about his luck with fanorona and Mason knew that.

“Well I think you know this already, but like the other men here, I’ll take whatever opportunity comes my way. As long as it helps me stay out of this hellhole for good. I’ll accept your offer, but only if you explain everything to me in plain and simple details.”

Connor smiled. “I promise.”

“Then lead the way. I’ll follow you.”

Getting Mason out of Bridewell went just as easily as it did getting himself in. A few written cheques in the right pockets and he walked out a free man, holding what few belongings he still possessed. Connor never liked using money as a means to an end but he took some comfort in the fact that it had been done to help a good, albeit slightly misguided man.

“Throwing around that amount of money will only give people a reason to hate you.”

“Some people will hate me no matter what. Whether I am rich or poor, or somewhere in the middle.” Connor replied bluntly. It took Mason a minute, but then he understood. “Do you have a place to stay?”

“Not one of my own. I’m sure one of the local inns will have a spare room just for me.”

“Then we can discuss the rest of my offer tonight.”

“Looking forward to it. And to my new occupation.”

As they walked down the streets of the newly rebuilt city, Connor smirked. At least Mason seemed eager.

**Author's Note:**

> Another one shot related to my personal trend of continuing Connor’s story in bits and pieces. I did have to take some liberties with historical facts (though seeing how this is AC, I’m sure we’re all very familiar with taking historical liberties). Thanks for reading and come talk to me about Connor at aquilaofarkham.tumblr.com!


End file.
